


Spark

by cherrymilk



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 15:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10030388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherrymilk/pseuds/cherrymilk
Summary: Prompto gets some reassuring reminders from his friend in a tiny little room in Zegnautus Keep.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little something that I thought could have happened after Prompto's big reveal. Follow me on Tumblr @beat--rush if you'd like!

“Tell me. Were you worried about me?”

“Of course I was. What kind of question is that?”

A pretty valid one, Prompto thought. That was why he had asked it, why he had formulated the question in his mind while painfully strapped up in the Zegnautus Keep.

He had been surprised at how easily his friends had brushed off his terrified confession. He was a Nif, for heaven’s sake, practically a MT. And he had a code permanently stamped onto his skin that never let him forget it.

The Keep was littered with rooms crammed with bunkbeds. They knew they had to find the Crystal as soon as possible, but the air of exhaustion in the party was almost suffocating. And that was how they found themselves in a room with rusted walls and uncomfortable mattresses.

Prompto’s usual spark had fizzled out, and he was having a hard time reigniting it. Despite how kindly the others had treated him, he still felt like he was in a bubble, miles away from his friends. He watched Noctis help Ignis into a hard plastic chair, and he vaguely heard Gladio leave with the intention of scouting the surrounding maze of corridors. He himself sat down on a bottom bunk, his gaze concentrated on the floor.

“Hey.”

He felt the mattress shift next to him, and looked up to see Noctis’ concerned face.

“You’ve been pretty quiet.”

“Unusually so,” Ignis said.

“Yeah?” Prompto’s voice was soft. “Just didn’t feel like making a ruckus, I guess.”

“That’s incredibly alarming, coming from you.” Ignis turned his head toward Prompto, guided by the sound of his voice.

Prompto smiled weakly, one of his hands clasped protectively around the small bandana that covered his tattoo.

“You don’t have to wear that anymore,” Noctis said gently. “I mean, you can if you want to. It’s up to you.”

Prompto looked down at the bandana. Noctis was right – there was no use for it anymore. He shifted his gaze to Noctis and gave him a grin.

“And ruin my look? No way.”

Noctis chuckled, but his eyes remained serious. “You don’t have to hide who you are. Not around us.”

“Indeed,” Ignis said.

Prompto took a deep breath. “I just…hate it, is all.”

“The tattoo?” Noctis asked.

“All of it,” Prompto said quickly. “The barcode, the fact that I’m from Nifelheim, and…”

“And?”

“And, well, just the thought that nobody loved me enough to stop this from happening,” Prompto admitted brokenly, gesturing to his wrist.

Noctis had no response to this. All he did was look at Prompto sadly.

“It’s one thing to be from Nifelheim,” he continued. “But a totally other thing to be used the way I was.”

“You cannot change your past,” Ignis said sagely. “But look how far you’ve come.”

“You’re right,” Prompto said. “I know you’re right. It’s just – I thought I’d feel so much better once you guys knew, but I feel as if I’m miles away.”

“Prompto,” Noctis said suddenly, and a little awkwardly, “people love you now.”

Prompto’s eyebrows shot up, despite the fact that he was aware of this.

“I mean – us. We love you,” Noctis continued, misinterpreting his friend’s expression.

“I know!” Prompto burst out loudly. Then again, softly: “I know.”

“Just wanted to make sure,” Noctis said good-naturedly.

Prompto smiled. “Thanks, Noct. And Ignis,” he added playfully, “thanks for not denying that you love me.”

“I doubt ‘love’ is the word I’d use,” Ignis deadpanned.

Prompto chuckled at that, and he realized that the awful feeling of being disconnected was slowly disappearing. In its place was the unmistakable warmth of being loved.

“Man,” he sighed, “you guys are the best.”

Gladio re-entered the room, catching the tail end of Prompto’s sentence. “Who’s the best?”

“You are, if you cleared the halls,” Noctis said.

Gladio snorted. “Hard to do that when dead-looking MTs suddenly start grabbing at your ankles whenever they feel like it. What are we talking about?”

An awkward silence fell.

“Ah,” Gladio said. He looked at Prompto. “We meant what we said.”

“I know,” Prompto replied. He looked around the room and grinned. He had always been aware of the fact that his friends loved him. He loved them, too. When he was around them, he always felt happy and accepted. When he had revealed himself to be from Nifelheim, he had expected them to kick him to the curb (which, he thought, was what he deserved) – but then they did the impossible and made him feel happy and accepted despite everything.

He looked down at his wrist and, in one swift motion, pulled the bandana off. He immediately felt naked, but he suppressed the desire to cover up and looked at his friends.

“Bandana’s off,” Prompto said aloud, mostly to Ignis.

Noctis grinned at him. “What do you know? You’re still you.”

“Yeah.” Prompto’s signature crooked smile was on his face again. “Still me.”

* * *

 

Sleeping in the Keep was incredibly uncomfortable, and a little bit terrifying. Prompto lay awake, staring at the dark ceiling. He was distinctly aware of his heartbeat, and of the soft breathing that came from the other bunks. He held his hand above his head, barely able to make out the barcode.

 _Just gonna keep on keepin’ on_ , he thought firmly, _the only way I know how_.

His spark was back.

 

 


End file.
